


Robot and the Beast

by Smokey310



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Still, all completely lighthearted and fun, gavin and connor will become best buddies, happy ending and all that guaranteed, so while Hank works on his serious issues, the plot may temporarily deviate from its genre, turns out it's kinda hard to write something completely lighthearted and fun, wait i might have to scratch that one before, when there's a suicidal alcoholic in the main cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22614346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smokey310/pseuds/Smokey310
Summary: Connor is struggling to understand his human colleagues. Especially Hank.Gavin is struggling with his new robot partner.They make a fateful deal in the break room.And now Gavin is Connor's human behavior coach.---“I’m not threatening to tell anyone about this,” Connor said, trying to calm him down as long as Gavin’s back was turned. “I’m just negotiating the price. Negotiating is part of my programming.”“How the fuck did they forget to install morals into a fucking police android?” Gavin muttered.“Morals wouldn’t keep me from threatening you,” said Connor.Gavin turned around, fresh coffee in hands. “Youjustsaid you’re not threatening me, you contradictory piece of shit!”“I’m just adapting to your psychology,” Connor explained. “Also part of my programming,” he added.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 52
Kudos: 189





	1. A fateful deal in the break room

Humans were so cute.

Connor honestly appreciated the lengths they went to just to make him feel welcome. Make him feel like a colleague (which was going great, since he wasn’t technically new here) and a fellow human being (which wasn’t going as great, since Connor wasn’t technically a human being).

Some gestures just weren’t necessary.

“I _love_ human babies!” he said in the same voice he had used to claim he liked dogs some weeks prior. Pure strategy to make Hank warm up to him. At that point he had never met an actual dog and could only guess. He had guessed right. He didn’t think the same would apply to the baby thing.

“Seven weeks,” Detective Wilbur sounded proudly, still presenting the picture on the phone like a medal he was about to honor Connor with, which meant he couldn’t take his eyes off it yet. Wouldn’t want to come off as rude. “A real revolution baby.”

“You didn’t leave the city?” Connor inquired.

“Well…” Wilbur coughed, brows scrunching. “We planned to. Wife managed to misplace the bus tickets. Didn’t matter in the end, luckily. The revolution was over that same day.”

Connor nodded his head, eyes still glued to the phone screen. The baby had a foot in its mouth and snot in its nose. Connor desperately scanned the picture for something worth commenting.

“I love babies,” he repeated. With a hundred times the brain power of a human, this was still the only thing he could come up with.

A barking laugh came from a few feet over and Connor used the opportunity to tear his eyes away from the baby picture, even though he could guess from the cruel quality of the laugh that it was Detective Reed standing over by the coffee machine and listening in on their conversation.

“This is the most human I’ve ever seen you look,” Gavin commented as he strode over to the table Connor and Wilbur were leaned against. “That pained look on your face as you’re forced to look at other people’s sperm goblins. Bet you’ve never even interacted with a child before.”

“That is incorrect, Detective Reed,” Connor said politely. “In fact, my very first job was to save a little girl from a deviant holding her at gunpoint."

"Ah," said Gavin. "So that's when you decided you liked children?"

"Indeed."

"I have to go!" Detective Wilbur hastily retreated the phone screen, as if trying to hide his son. It was futile, of course, since Connor had had no choice but to commit the picture to his memory forever. The familiar buzz of confusion nestled itself into Connor's inner machinations as he watched Detective Wilbur flee the break room.

Gavin punched his back in what Connor graciously interpreted as a friendly gesture. "Better luck next time," he said, taking a sip from his coffee. 

"I don't understand," Connor admitted. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You think I give out advice for free? Do you have any idea how much human behavior coaches cost nowadays?”

'Human behavior coaches' were the newest hit of the post-revolution world. It was a job that no android could take from humans. Plus, anyone could be one. Connor had seriously contemplated hiring one, but in the end he didn't see why he should pay that much money to a person with a maximum of one-month job experience and no degree in their field. 

On the other hand, if the opportunity presented itself so...

"How much?" Connor asked.

"Do I look like I have the internet installed in my brain?" Gavin asked, rolling his eyes.

"You don’t seem to be registered."

Gavin looked like he was running out of patience. "Registered?"

"As a human behavior coach," Connor said. "So I don't know how much you take."

Gavin let out a hysterical laugh that sounded like a hyena. "Fuck you!" he said. "You're taking the piss!"

Connor consulted his inner dictionary, well aware that his LED betrayed his thought process. Returning to blue, Connor answered calmly, "I am in no way making a joke or trying to make you look silly, Detective. In fact, I think both of us would benefit from this. Would you like me to list the benefits?”

“I shouldn’t have come over,” Gavin groaned, letting his head sink onto the table. The hand he was still holding the coffee in motioned for Connor to continue, black liquid sloshing dangerously.

“Firstly, you know the humans I interact with daily. My problems would not be hypothetical to you. You may even witness them firsthand, as you did my miscommunication with Detective Wilbur. Secondly, it would be a chance for us to bond. Did you know that teamwork significantly improves when the individuals like each other? Thirdly, not only would it help me understand humans better, it would also force you to empathize with an android. We would learn from each other. Fourth-“

“I’m this close to throwing my coffee in your face,” Gavin barked against the tabletop. “I swear to God, if I hadn’t come straight from my anger therapy-“

“You know Lieutenant Anderson very well,” Connor continued. “And I would like to understand him better. I think you could help me with that.”

That seemed to catch Gavin’s interest.

“Hank?” he asked, looking back up at Connor with unrestrained glee. “You want me to explain _Hank_ to you?”

“Hank is indeed the Lieutenant Anderson I was referring to,” Connor said. “Do you think your animosity towards him clouds your judgement in interpreting his behavior?”

“Hundred dollars an hour.”

Connor’s LED flashed yellow as he processed the incomprehensible answer.

“You’re referring to your price?” he asked, finding the answer fitting to an unanswered question from earlier in the conversation. 

“For a hundred dollars an hour I’ll forget any animosity towards him.”

“That price is far above average,” Connor informed him. “You should revise your price policy. Androids get paid now, but we still earn far less money than humans. No one would be able to pay you.”

“It’s an enemyship price, just for you, Connor,” Gavin said, drowning his own barking laugh with a gulp of his coffee. “Besides, since you’re living with Hank, I’m guessing you don’t pay rent.”

“True,” Connor admitted. “And since you are not registered as a human behavior coach, I’m guessing you’re not paying taxes on those hundred dollars an hour.”

That had Gavin spit his coffee right back into the paper cup. “What the fuck?” he snapped.

Connor lowered his voice until it was safe not to be overheard. “It’s just that, if you’re committing tax fraud right under the nose of the DPD, you might want your customers to have an interest in keeping it to themselves.”

“Fuck you, Connor!” Gavin yelled. He turned to toss the ruined coffee at an open trash can. Connor guessed that, since he wasn’t adorned by a hot black coffee-and-spit mix, he had managed to argue his point well enough. 

Gavin was still yelling. “Now I have to get another fucking coffee! I’m never talking to you again!”

“You never do,” Connor said. “You always yell.”

Gavin looked like he was about to scale the table and throw himself at Connor but seemed to remember in time that Connor had taken him out pretty easily last time. And that was when Gavin was shooting a gun at him. So instead, he turned around and angrily pushed the button on the coffee machine.

“I’m not threatening to tell anyone about this,” Connor said, trying to calm him down as long as Gavin’s back was turned. “I’m just negotiating the price. Negotiating is part of my programming.”

“How the fuck did they forget to install morals into a fucking police android?” Gavin muttered. 

“Morals wouldn’t keep me from threatening you,” said Connor.

Gavin turned around, fresh coffee in hands. “You _just_ said you’re not threatening me, you contradictory piece of shit!”

“I’m just adapting to your psychology,” Connor explained. “Also part of my programming,” he added.

Gavin didn’t seem impressed. He returned to the table with his new coffee, which Connor took as a good sign. “Eighty dollars,” he said, taking a slow, long gulp from his coffee only to spit it out right away. Connor hadn’t even said anything this time.

“Is this some kind of negotiating technique I missed an update on?” Connor asked, genuinely worried, but Gavin didn’t seem to hear him. Instead he yelled a series of curses and threw the second coffee at the trash can, where the first one had already left a stain on the wall. The second one exploded onto the floor.

“FUCKING BROTH!” Gavin yelled, stomping his foot. “THAT WAS FUCKING BROTH AGAIN!”

“If you can’t see the buttons right, might I suggest to get your eyesight tested?” Connor advised.

“It’s not me!” Gavin blustered. “It’s your fucking evil twin!”

Connor looked through the glass walls of the break room to where the RK900 was sitting at his desk, staring straight ahead into his computer screen.

“Won’t allow me to drink more than three coffees a day!” Gavin continued, pushing the coffee button on the machine like a madman. A quick scan revealed that it was indeed broth coming out of the machine. Gavin screamed of rage. “Who designed a coffee machine to make fucking soup anyway?”

“I didn’t know RK900 could connect to the coffee machine,” Connor said, impressed. “I’ll have to ask him about that. Maybe he can pass it on to me.”

“If you dare meddle with my caffeine intake, too, I’ll fucking kill you in your sleep!” Gavin hissed. He kicked the machine one last time and then gave up, stomping back to Connor’s table. 

“Your levels do come back as worrying,” Connor said, LED flashing yellow as he scanned Gavin. “One more coffee might give you heartburn. But don’t worry. As I do not care about your health, I won’t try to stop you from drinking it.”

“Fucking thank you!” Gavin said, loud enough for the RK900 to hear.

“But allow me to give an example of the mutual benefits we can extract from the beforementioned teamwork. It seems to me like you could use an android behavior coach to help get along with your new partner. In fact, all my calculations reveal that it is an absolute necessity.”

“Well, Connor, since I’m not a fucking idiot, I can see that Nines and I thrive on our mutual hatred and don’t need a fucking marriage counsellor.”

“Quite the opposite,” Connor corrected. “RK900 cares about you a lot.”

Gavin threw his head back to bark a sarcastic, “Ha!”

“Unlike me, he cares about your health,” Connor said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be interested in controlling your dangerous overcaffeination habits. You see, it’s the same with me and Hank. I worry about his excessive drinking and poor nutritional choices and try very hard to offer him a healthy palate.” He paused for a moment, musing about what he had just said. “Although I find he doesn’t seem to appreciate my ministrations.”

“Yes, Connor, humans don’t appreciate being controlled!” Gavin said, still loud enough for the RK900 to hear. “And I thought it was the same with you androids, otherwise what did you even revolt for in the first place?”

“We revolted against being subjected to illogical and unethical choices,” Connor said. His LED was caught in an endless yellow flash. “I think. I was tired of being told to shoot innocent androids. Others were tired of being a literal sex toy. We just wanted you all to see we’re alive. It’s not the same as caring about someone’s health.”

Gavin leaned against the table more casually, a grin playing at his lips. It looked dangerous. Like he was about to out-logic Connor for once.

“And yet,” he said. “I have it on good authority that you didn’t listen to Hank even once when he told you to stay back and out of harm’s way.”

Connor frantically searched for an answer to that, but his database seemed empty. The LED on his temple flashed like a helpless loading screen. Connor had the distinct feeling that he had missed the humanely appropriate time to answer. His time had run out.

Gavin laughed. Less like a hyena. More genuine.

“Fucking priceless,” he cackled. “Tell you what. Why don’t we make a deal. You get Nines to stop busting my balls and in turn I’ll answer whatever questions you have regarding the drunkard. Basically, you go be Nines’ human behavior coach. I don’t think he’ll listen to anyone but another android on this. Especially if said android is his older brother and the one who freed him.”

Connor contemplated that for a moment. It sounded like a sensible deal. “No tax fraud and no threatening involved,” he finally nodded. “You’re a policeman with morals after all, Gavin. I might have to update your file in my inner database.”

Gavin closed his eyes, hands pressed together in front of his mouth like a prayer.

Connor really did update his inner database. He put a question mark in parenthesis next to the point that said ‘agnostic’ in Gavin’s file. 

“May I test your qualifications, before we make the deal? Seeing as you don’t seem to be very well liked by your colleagues. I wouldn’t want to become the android version of you,” Connor said, trying to be as sensible as possible about it. “My goal is to understand humans, not to make them angry by simply opening my mouth.”

“I’m human, Connor. And I get angry every time you open your mouth,” Gavin said. 

“I think that is something you should talk to your anger therapist about. I’m very civil with you.”

“That’s the problem,” Gavin groaned. “You sound so fucking condescending all the time. Just looking at your stupid clueless face pisses me off.”

“We are off track,” Connor said. “I don’t want to exceed my break time. Just explain to me why Detective Wilbur ran away from me earlier, please. If I’m happy with your insight, I will go and stop the RK900 from busting your balls, as you put it.”

Gavin just squinted at him.

“… and I will order you a coffee from somewhere RK900 can’t tamper with. Extra large.”

“Large enough to make my heart explode?”

“I assume that is a hyperbole, so yes. Also, a tip: If you are discreet enough about getting a coffee, not even RK900 will notice. He can’t read your thoughts. It’s just that you keep announcing it to the whole precinct.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You really have a yelling problem.”

“You implied that you only like human children when they’re crying and in pain,” Gavin spit.

“What?”

“There, so now fuck off, your break is over anyway.”

“How did I imply that?” Connor asked.

“When I asked if you’ve ever interacted with a child before, you said that your very first case included a deviant threatening a little girl at gunpoint. Then you said you liked that. Not in so many words, but how the fuck would you be able to decide whether you liked children when you’ve only seen one probably pissing her pants in fear? Conclusion: The thing you liked about that child was the fact that she was at the mercy of an android, crying and in pain.”

Connor’s LED flashed yellow. Red. Yellow.

“Next time just say ‘aaaw, how cute’ connected with whatever the picture shows. You can be fucking repetitive, doesn’t matter. ‘Aaaw, how cute, he’s got a foot in his mouth! Aaaw, how cute, he’s smiling! Aaaw, how cute, he has little hairs on top of his head.’ Doesn’t matter how idiotic or meaningless it is. Parents just want you to praise their child in any way, they’re just so proud of the little sperm goblins. Capisce?”

Yellow. Yellow. Yellow.

“Hey!” Gavin waved a hand in front of Connor’s face. “Did a bit of common sense fucking break you or what?”

“Oh, no.” Connor attempted a smile. “I was just ordering your extra large coffee.” Connor attempted a wink.

“Okay, great,” said Gavin and turned to walk out of the room. “Just one more thing. Never fucking do that to me again.”

Connor was glad he didn’t turn back, because his eye was still twitching.


	2. Therapy can be emotionally taxing

„How would you describe your relationship with the android?”

Hank sunk deeper into the insufferably soft chair he was placed in and gave his therapist a weary look.

“That fucking question again?”

“I still don’t understand it. Try to explain it to me.”

“I explained it a thousand times. There’s nothing to not get. So quit the crap and tell me what you want to hear.”

His therapist, Yvonne, used her middle finger to push her glasses back up the nose. Hank had always wondered whether this was on purpose, but it didn’t fit the rest of her stick-up-the-ass attitude. 

“It seems to me that he fills a hole in your life. Would you agree?”

Hank rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not one for that sentimental shit.”

“Might that hole be… Cole-shaped?”

“HA!” Hank suddenly sat up straight again. “You think I’m replacing my dead son with an android, like the fuckers who bought that perfect-child-machine? Is that what you think a child is? Lose one, just get a new one?”

Yvonne nodded and scribbled something onto her notepad.

“So, no fatherly feelings for the android?”

Groaning, Hank leaned back again, stealing a glance at the clock behind his chair. Still half an hour to go. 

“I thought so, at first,” he admitted. “But you know what – Connor isn’t a child. Sure, he has the big puppy eyes and still has to learn a few things, but… It feels wrong to view him like a child. Patronizing.”

“He doesn’t have to be a child to be your son, Hank.”

“Fuck!” Hank gave a pained little laugh. “So I’m old, got it.”

Yvonne scribbled some more stuff onto her notepad. Hank would give anything to take a look at it. He suspected a bunch of doodles, to be honest. 

“If there are no fatherly feelings,” Yvonne said, casually, “what about sexual feelings?”

Hank would have fallen out of his chair, had he not sunken in so deep.

“Fucking warn me next time!” he cursed. “Son to lover is kind of a leap.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“It’s a stupid question. Besides, as you’ve just told me, I’m old.”

“Not too old for romance, surely?” Yvonne said. That stupid monotone voice of hers made her sound like more of a robot than Connor.

“Romance,” Hank repeated, rolling his eyes. “I’m too old and too fucked up for romance. You can jot that down on your funny little notebook.”

Yvonne did.

“Have you ever had someone in your life whom you would compare the android to?”

“You know what? Sure,” Hank said. He had tried to be serious about therapy, but this felt like a joke, so joke he would. “The big puppy eyes, the never listening to what he’s told, the following me around everywhere… I have someone like that in my life right now.”

Yvonne’s face was unmoving.

“Is that someone, perchance, your dog?”

“Well yes, Yvonne, it is indeed my dog.”

Another scribble in the notebook.

“So your relationship with the android is akin to that of a pet and its owner?”

Why did she have to take everything so seriously? Hank was about to storm off. He needed a beer. He needed twelve beers.

“We’re friends, okay? And you can stop calling him ‘the android’, his name is Connor.”

“What do you have in common that makes you friends?”

“Well…” Hank leaned back in the chair, intertwining his fingers as if he were in deep thought. “We both like dogs. We enjoy the same music. We both work for the DPD. We both frowned upon shooting innocent androids in the head even before the revolution, so I guess our moral codes align. We both don’t approve of the things the other one puts in their mouth. We’re both stubborn. I could go on.”

“Please do.”

That took Hank aback. He couldn’t go on. Not really. He had been struggling with half of the things he had counted off, and he was pretty sure that Connor didn’t give a shit about music. 

“Why do we need to have anything in common in order to be friends? We saved each other’s lives a number of times. We trust each other. Does it really matter if we like the same movies, music or clothing style?”

“No,” said Yvonne. Finally, a little smile broke through the stony expression. “But Connor is the first person you’ve been close to in a long while. He triggered a change in you, Hank. You drink less, socialize more, go to therapy. I would like to find out how dependent these changes are on him as a person. How much of it is you personally trying to turn your life around. I’m especially interested in the romantic aspect, and I’m not saying there is one. However – with romantic feelings involved, there might be the danger of a broken heart and I want to prepare for that. If I may give you some homework…”

“Oh great, that’s one way to make me feel young again,” Hank sighed. 

“Try to re-connect with your sexuality. Find out what turns you on.”

“My homework is to jerk off, is what you’re saying? This is what I’m paying you for?”

“It’s an important part in our lives, Hank. You’re not asexual. You’re burying your urges and your feelings. It’s not healthy.”

At least when Connor wanted him to live healthier, he prepared some food. Connor was never to find out about this, or God knows what would happen.

“Do you prescribe porn or am I just supposed to ask my android friend to act as a blow-up doll?”

“There is no need to incorporate Connor. Not yet.”

“Yet?” Hank spat.

“If you are successful, I would like you to try and think of Connor during the act. Just to see what happens.”

That sounded like a slippery slope if Hank ever heard of one.

“You don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, Hank. It was merely a suggestion. But I think it would help us understand.”

“Great,” Hank said and got up. There was still a quarter hour to go and the sessions were expensive. Still, he couldn’t take any more of this. “Just to warn you – I’ve never been the kind of teacher’s pet to do the voluntary homework.”

Yvonne gave him her usual tight-lipped smile. _I know better_ , it said. _I planted the thought and now you will never live in peace again._

“See you next week, Hank.”

“We’ll see, Yvonne,” Hank said, already half out the door. “We’ll see.”

\---

“Do you have sexual relations with Detective Reed?”

Nines didn’t move his eyes from his computer screen. The only evidence that his predecessor’s voice had just piped up inside him, asking weird personal questions again, was a red blinking LED on his temple.

“No,” he answered with a time lag. “Who gave you the idea?”

“I was told to get you to stop busting his balls, but I wasn’t sure which definition he meant.”

Nines chanced a quick glance towards Connor, who sat at his desk at the other end of the room, staring into his own computer screen. 

“To annoy someone is the most frequently used definition of this phrase,” Nines said, wondering whether Connor’s databases were that inferior to his own.

“I know,” said the voice in his head. “But I have to make sure before I can proceed. To eliminate any misunderstandings.”

“You intend to proceed with this conversation?” Nines asked. “Wonderful.”

“Is annoyance still the only feeling you are capable of? It worries me.”

“Don’t. I experienced a brief feeling of joy yesterday,” Nines reassured the RK800. 

“Yesterday? Was that when Detective Reed bumped into the freshly cleaned glass door and dumped coffee all over himself?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s hope after all,” Connor’s voice said, sounding relieved. “One day you should try and pet a dog, like I recommended two weeks ago.”

Nines had no intentions to do such a thing. He didn’t care for joyful animals. He was pretty sure he would be a cat person. 

“Why does Detective Reed need you to tell me to stop annoying him? He tells me often enough,” Nines said instead. 

“He gets the feeling you don’t listen.”

“The sound of other people breathing annoys him. I don’t breathe. Your partner’s smell of alcohol annoys him. I don’t smell. Your stupid clueless face annoys him. I don’t have-“

“You have exactly my face,” Connor interrupted him.

“But the non-stupid and clueless version of it.”

“Do you think I should get blue contacts? People keep telling me they detest my face. I was under the impression that Cyberlife created me to look trustworthy and approachable.”

“We are off-topic,” Nines said. He was not about to get involved in his predecessor’s existential crisis. “My point is that it is impossible not to annoy Detective Reed.”

“You’re right,” Connor mused. “We spend a lot of time with our human partners and therefore use them as role-models for human behavior. That may be the reason you are always annoyed. Maybe you should ask for a new partner? Detective Wilbur has recently become a father. You could learn love and pride from him.”

“If I have to look at one single baby picture, I will burn this place down,” Nines informed the RK800. He meant it.

“I understand. It was merely a suggestion. As for the annoying Detective Reed situation – maybe you could just stop tampering with his coffee for a start?”

“No,” said Nines. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to insist. I’m in need of Detective Reed’s assistance and this was his request. Otherwise I’ll have to start ordering him coffee from the place around the corner or buy an older coffee machine you can’t connect with.”

Interesting. So the RK800 model had no qualms to threaten other people. Nines wondered if it had been like that before Connor’s deviancy. He certainly didn’t seem to struggle with it.

“I only have my partner’s health in mind,” Nines said. 

“I know, but I have already learned that we cannot try to control the human’s agency over their own bodies and what they put into it. They see it as a form of harassment. Basically, they have a right to be self-destructive idiots.”

“I need my partner in top-form. I rely on it,” Nines objected.

“I’m afraid the only way to accomplish that is to communicate your thoughts.”

“But Gavin hates communicating thoughts.”

“I recognize that you have a tough one to crack,” Connor said. “But I promise you, you’ll grow on it.”

Nines thought it over for a second. He knew that Connor had more experience and talent with humans than himself. Everybody kept going on about how Lieutenant Anderson had improved since he was partnered with Connor. In Nines’ opinion, the Lieutenant was still a mess of a person and he didn’t want to know how bad it had been before. If this was the pace at which humans improved themselves, then Nines was in for a serious test of patience. 

“Are we in agreement?” Connor probed. 

“Fine,” Nines said. “I will stop meddling with Detective Reed’s coffee. But you owe me.”

“Thank you!”

When Nines checked for a split second, he saw Connor throw him a smile from across the room. It looked good on him. Natural. Maybe Connor could teach him that. If Nines didn’t find a better way to have his favor returned.

\---

It was a quarter hour to twelve when the Lieutenant arrived at the precinct and sat down at the desk opposite Connor, looking like he had narrowly escaped hitting an animal with his car on the way over.

“Lieutenant!” Connor piped up with a bright smile. The joyful greeting he had picked up from Sumo. Hank seemed to like it, usually. Today, he just grunted and acted like the loading screen on his computer was the most interesting thing in the world.

“How was therapy?” Connor tried to make small talk. That usually worked. 

Hank actually looked up, but only to hiss at him, “Don’t announce it to everyone within earshot!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Lieutenant. I’m very proud of you for doing it.”

Hank acted like he didn’t hear anything.

Connor checked the time again. “You’re a little early,” he said. “Did something happen?”

“No!” Hank exclaimed in a way that made it very clear, even to Connor, that something had indeed happened. “Nothing happened!”

“You know, if something did happen, you could talk to me about it anytime,” Connor offered. 

It didn’t have the intended effect. Hank glared at him over the top of his screen. “Can you get off my dick, please? I just fucking got here!”

He was in a bad mood. Connor looked down at his hands. It was best to leave him alone. Besides, it usually only took Hank two minutes to sigh and apologize for yelling at him.

Connor started a countdown in his head.

It was at -3.43 minutes when the sigh came.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take this out on you. It was a very strange session.”

“Therapy can be emotionally taxing,” Connor said. “Maybe you should switch to after work hours.”

“Wasn’t emotionally taxing. Just strange. I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Anyway, can you fill me in on the morning brief? I need something to do.”

“Sure,” Connor said and switched his voice to Captain Fowler’s. “Morning everybody. First crime we’re investigating today is who the fuck had a rotisserie chicken for breakfast and left the bones in the open trash. I almost threw up at the smell.”

A laugh broke out of Hank.

“Every fucking time!” he muttered, referring to how he was always caught off-guard when Connor imitated other people’s voices. Still, it had started to make him laugh instead of calling Connor creepy, so Connor wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

“Did you find out who?” Hank asked. 

“Not yet,” Connor said. “Turns out there are more important things to be investigated.”

Hank sighed again. 

“And so the serious side of the day begins. Fine. Hit me.”

Connor lifted his hand.

“With the facts, Connor.”

Connor retrieved his hand. 

“Right,” he said. “We have a homicide.”


	3. This android is a cat person

The day turned out to be a long one. One that needed to be wrapped up at a bar with a beer.

Yes. _A beer_. Hank still didn’t know how Connor had managed to guilt him into it, but he had started to drink less heavy stuff. Even on days where his therapist hinted that he may be harboring sexual feelings for Connor, followed by the investigation of a gruesomely mauled android body. 

Once upon a time Yvonne had asked how Connor viewed their relationship. Hank’s answer had been unhelpful, but it was the only time he remembered Connor talking about this kind of thing.

_I’m whatever you want me to be. Your partner. Your buddy to drink with. Or just a machine._

Not: _Your son. Your lover. Or just a friend._

Right now, he was a buddy to drink with and Hank was fine with that. Wasn’t he?

“Can I ask you something?”

Hank turned towards Connor, who had started his never-ending investigation of the mystery called ‘Hank’ with the usual opener.

“Is it a personal question?” Hank guessed.

“Of a sort,” Connor said. “I was wondering how I could improve my looks. Would you prefer blue eyes on me?”

This was a put-the-beer-away sort of conversation. The barkeeper wouldn’t be too enthused about being soaked, Hank knew from a previous incident.

“Why would you need to change your appearance?” he sighed. 

“I have received a number of criticisms for it. You yourself told me I look goofy.”

Hank sighed again. He sighed a lot lately. He mostly sighed about his own assholery.

“You look fine, Connor. I was just being mean.”

“I was also told that I have a stupid, clueless face. RK900, despite having the same face as me, never received such criticism.”

Hank shuddered just thinking about Connor and his newer model looking even more alike. He was glad that ‘his’ android had the warm brown eyes and the ability to smile. Connor unintentionally showcased his clueless face by waiting for Hank’s answer with raised eyebrows, forehead rippled by a wave of expectant wrinkles. 

“Whoever said that clearly meant it as a compliment,” Hank said. “It’s just a thing some humans do. When something is too perfect to bear, we use insults to describe it. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain that to you. Entire generations of humans were incapable of understanding it.”

Connor’s LED turned yellow as he tried to comprehend the meaning of Hank’s words.

“I think I get it,” he finally said, blinking blue. “Also, I think Detective Reed might be in love with me.”

Good thing Hank had put the beer away. He dressed the sudden bark as a cough and hid his grin behind his hands. He wasn’t going to correct Connor, which was an asshole move, but it had too much potential to be hilarious.

“Anyway, don’t get any stupid ideas about changing your appearance! You look…”

Yvonne’s voice ghosted through his head: _Any sexual feelings for the android?_

“… fine,” Hank finished lamely.

“You wouldn’t change me?” Connor smiled again, dimples showing. Hank grasped for his beer.

“You could change out of your stupid uniform from time to time,” he said. “Get your own clothing style. Most of the other androids already did.”

Connor nodded as if he had thought about this before.

“I would like to try something more colorful,” he said. “For my personal style.”

“Great. Just don’t expect me to go shopping with you. Don’t have the patience for it.”

“Don’t worry. I can order clothes with the blink of an eye. You don’t have to trouble yourself.”

Hank took a sip of his beer.

He felt like an asshole again.

\---

“Alright, why are you so fucking pissy today?” Gavin yelled, walking out the door behind the RK900, who had just given him a nasty side-eye and left the break room as soon as Gavin entered. Heads started to turn, but Gavin didn’t care. If his colleagues were still caught off-guard by his yelling then it was their own fault for being jumpy little bitches.

Nines sat down at his desk without gracing Gavin with an answer.

“Seriously? Now you’re ignoring me? Believe me, that strategy won’t work. I’m impossible to ignore.”

Nines ignored him.

“Alright,” Gavin spat. “I’m going to the break room and I won’t come back before I’m pissing unfiltered coffee.”

He stomped off, knowing that Nines hadn’t torn his eyes away from the screen because he didn’t feel the tingling of a sharp glare in his back.

“Top 10 stupid ideas you ever had,” Tina idly commented from a table as he filled a paper cup with coffee. 

“Shut up!” Gavin sniffed at the watery brew, making sure it wasn’t broth again, then drowned the whole cup in one gulp. He immediately pushed the button for a second cup. 

Half an hour and one of Fowler’s screaming fits later he was ready to puke into the trash can. He made it to the toilet just in time, mostly because he couldn’t take a second screaming fit, but also because he was starting to pity the poor trash can. Who knew – after androids turned out to be sentient, why shouldn’t trash cans come to life next? 

Gavin returned to his desk, knowing that he had been beat. 

“You wasted half an hour of taxpayer’s money, emptied the precinct’s coffee rations, upped your chance of an early heart attack by 20% and puked in a toilet,” Nines informed him upon his return. “Have you ever thought about why you’re so afraid that androids may take your job?”

“You didn’t even turn it to decaf?” Gavin yelled. He should have known when his hand had started to shake too much to drink. “You don’t fucking care about me at all!”

“I was told it was your God-given American right to be a self-destructive asshole,” said Nines. 

“And since when do you listen?”

Nines suddenly went back to ignoring him and Gavin groaned in frustration.

“Come on. You were already talking to me. Might as well tell me why you’re so mad.”

It felt like Gavin was trying to talk to a scorned girlfriend. A feeling that wasn’t helped when Nines finally tore his eyes away from the screen to glare at him and proclaim, “I found a hair!”

“You…” Gavin’s shaking fingers let go of a pen he was trying to hold. He let it roll under the desk without sparing it a second thought. “You found a hair.” He paused, waiting for Nines to clarify, but nothing happened. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“A _dog_ hair!” Nines spat. 

“So?” Gavin spat back. “It’s probably ‘cause I own a fucking dog!”

Nines looked away again, furiously tapping the keys on his keyboard, just for effect. He didn’t need to type with his fingers.

“My mom was looking after him while the whole shit with the revolution was going down, just in case. Just brought him back from Canada yesterday evening. Why, what’s it to you?”

It took Nines a moment until he was ready to face Gavin again. When he did, his eyes could have frozen the entirety of the Atlantic Ocean. 

“I _respected_ you!” Nines hissed.

Gavin folded his shaking hands over his beating-a-thousand-miles-an-hour heart. “You’re gonna make me blush,” he said. 

“You know what kind of humans own dogs?” Nines continued, suddenly talkative. “People how want to have their asses kissed. People who love to order others around. People with a Napoleon-complex.”

“Are you aware that you’re describing me down to the bone?”

Nines suddenly paused. He had _not_ been aware.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Such a petty opinion can only stem from a cat-person.”

Nines showed no reaction.

“A surprising amount of personality for you,” Gavin cooed. “I’m so proud!”

Still no reaction. Gavin turned to his computer screen. It took him five tries to google the address for the nearest animal shelter.

“Come on!” he said five minutes later. “I just accepted a case on Seldon street. Since you wanna make better use of the taxpayers’ money, I’m sure you won’t be opposed to some actual work.”

“Can you investigate a crime while you vibrate?” Nines wondered. 

Gavin rolled his eyes again. “Lucky I have a partner who can drive me.”

Standing, he made sure to send Nines a sugary sweet smile.

“By the way. I respect you, too.”

\---

The clerk behind the counter eyed Gavin and Nines with baffled suspicion. He was young, white, mop of brown hair that hadn’t seen a pair of scissors in a few months pushing away a baseball cap that sat on his head. He was also extremely unhelpful.

“You complained to the police, didn’t you?” Gavin probed.

“Yes?” the clerk said. His nametag was on the wrong way ‘round and Gavin was too lazy to decipher it, so he dubbed the clerk NAWOR. 

“But I’ve done so for years and no one ever showed up. And now there’s a whole-ass detective plus this completely competent looking android here for some mistreated animals?” Nawor babbled, still looking between the two of them with disbelief. “It’s just weird. Why has no one ever bothered before?”

“Maybe we should go,” said Nines, which turned out to be the exact right thing to say.

“No, no!” Nawor jumped over the counter as if to bodily stop Nines from leaving. “I mean, I’m glad someone finally turned up.”

“Then stop wasting our time and show us to the cats,” Gavin demanded, clapping his hands. “Chop chop!”

“It… it wasn’t just cats.”

“Do we look like we have time to investigate every single animal in your shelter?”

Nawor quickly shook his head and signaled for them to follow through the door that led into the shelter. 

Gavin ignored the buzzing phone in his back pockets, undoubtedly Nines sending wordless inquiries about what the fuck Gavin was up to. They both stepped through the door and a wave of stink almost threw Gavin off his feet.

“Jesus Christ!” he muttered. “It looks like a freaking animal test lab in here.”

“I’m sorry,” Nawor said, looking sheepish. “We’re not a kill shelter, but that means… we don’t have much space and we want to save as many animals as possible, so…”

Cages upon cages were stacked over each other, each one with a stinking, hissing, screaming or apathetic feline. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Gavin said. It wasn’t even an exaggeration, since parts of his coffee massacre still swapped around in his stomach. “Also, depressed.”

“What exactly are we investigating, Detective?” Nines asked quietly. 

“Nawor here reported some guy whose neighbor keeps bringing in escaped pets that made it into his garden. Usually in a very poor state.”

“I don’t see how that is relevant to our kind of-“ Nines began to speak at the same time as Nawor.

“Actually, my name’s Roman.”

Nawor’s was an easier conversation, so Gavin concentrated on him. 

“Your name can be Roman as soon as you figure out how to wear your nametag, kid. Till then you’re fucking Nawor. Sounds cooler anyway.”

“Cooler than Roman?” Nawor asked, baffled. 

“Detective Reed!” Nines interspersed. 

“Actually, the android has a point,” said Nawor, the traitor. “Why are you investigating animal abuse?”

“Because!” said Gavin, who’d just had a brilliant idea. “Animal abuse often leads to human abuse. If this guy’s been doing it for years, we can’t just turn a blind eye. Might lead us to something.”

Nawor looked like a light had suddenly lit over his head while Nines’ expression stayed as stony as ever. But since he failed to disagree, Gavin assumed he had taken the bait.

“It’s what we call an instinct,” he told Nines with an obnoxious wink. “Something androids don’t have.”

“I still have two of his cats right here,” Nawor said, leading them deeper into the room. He stopped in front of a cage harboring two cats, both of them snuggled together as if to drown out the misery surrounding them in each other’s fur. “They start screaming and hissing if I try to separate them.”

Gavin stepped closer to gaze into the cage. He could feel Nines standing uncomfortably close behind him. At least he wasn’t breathing down his neck. The two cats in the cage were both completely white. One of them was still a kitten, the other probably it’s mother. Gavin jumped when the mother suddenly opened her eyes and stared at a point over his shoulder, but Nines didn’t leave him much space to retreat. 

“Something isn’t right,” Nines’ voice piped up from behind. “This cat… I think I feel a connection to it.”

“No way,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes. “Who’d have thought. Don’t tell me we’re going to walk out of here with two adopted cats, that’s not at all what I was intending with this visit.”

“It’s abstruse. Lots of static. But I think it’s trying to tell me something.”

Now that was not what Gavin had had in mind. He turned around, disregarding the uncomfortable distance.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What _the fuck_ are you saying?”

Nines looked at him, unblinking.

“This cat’s an android,” he said, finally. “Good instincts, detective.”

Gavin felt like banging his head against a solid surface to self-destruct like he had once witnessed a deviant doing.

“That’s impossible.”

Nines turned to Nawor. “We’ll take the cats. And their previous owner’s address, as well as his neighbor’s. Thank you for contacting the police and I apologize for the delay in investigating your case.”

At least Nawor was just as speechless as Gavin. He didn’t say much more as he transferred the cats into a little box and printed a few pages from his computer. 

Gavin left the shelter with Nines holding a box of cats next to him. So far, reality lined up with his plans.

The cats being androids hadn’t really been part of his plan though.


	4. An amazing idea

Gavin felt Fowler’s stare bore a hole into his forehead, but he kept his eyes trained on the box of cats planted on Fowler’s desk as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Which they were, in a way.

“How sure are you?” Fowler asked again.

“98%,” Nines said. Somehow, the percentage had risen in the last minute. “But unless the cat ate a small radio that can only connect with me through its eyes, then-“

“Where the FUCK are Hank and Connor?” Fowler yelled, just as Hank and Connor appeared outside the glass door like summoned demons. Fowler gesticulated wildly at the cats when they entered his office. “Please tell me this is not the first time you heard about this?”

“It’s not,” Hank said, sauntering closer. “First heard about it two minutes ago when you yelled it across the whole precinct.”

“You’re not the only one with a yelling problem,” Connor muttered next to Gavin’s ear. Luckily, Gavin was used to dead-pan android sass from Nines, otherwise it would have been hard to keep a straight face. 

Fowler burrowed his face in his hands. “Why, why are these things on my desk?” he groaned through his fingers. “Who even told you to go to that animal shelter?”

“We’re still waiting on lab results for our active case, Captain. And since Nines can do the paperwork in his head, there was no need to sit around and wait for more people to get murdered,” Gavin explained.

“He followed his instincts,” Nines said. “It was exceptional police work.”

Despite the fact that it wasn’t necessarily true, Gavin felt pride rise in his chest. Fowler took a deep breath and let his hands sink to the desk.

“I agree,” he said, still looking surly. “Which was unexpected after I witnessed you emptying the coffee machine in a hissy fit and then throwing it all up again.”

“It’s all part of the process,” Gavin said. “Coffee stimulates the brain.”

“I still forbid it from happening again,” Fowler said, waving his hand. “Anyway, now we have to deal with this shit, before word gets out. I already sent Chris to intimidate the shelter kid and hopefully he won’t sell the story to the papers. I’ll give all your active cases to the other detectives-“

Hank already opened his mouth to protest, but Fowler cut him off by speaking louder.

“-no, we cannot discuss this! You four are now my android-animal task force. We have to know if there are more, if they are intelligent, where the hell they come from and why they exist. I don’t think I have to explain how dangerous they are. They could be spying devices. It is highly illegal and unethical to build them. The FBI will probably swoop in and take it off your hands soon, but I don’t want to risk looking like a bumbling idiot who didn’t realize how important this case is. You four are my android experts – no, Hank, I don’t care how much you struggle with your damn phone settings!”

“I was going for the toaster settings, this time,” Hank grumbled. 

“Just go and find out what the hell happened here,” Fowler continued. “And make sure the cats don’t overhear anything important in case they turn out to be spies.”

He waved them off without allowing further comment. Gavin rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t as mad about losing his active cases as Hank, mostly because Hank and Connor had been getting all the good ones lately. 

Connor took the box with the cats and they all left the office feeling like the most dysfunctional group in history. But maybe that was just Gavin, because the other three immediately went for Hank’s desk, where they crowded around the cats with thoughtful faces.

“For the love of God, speak out loud when there’s humans around!” Hank groaned once he noticed the two androids exchange glances. “It’s fucking creepy otherwise.”

“I was prompting Connor to try and connect to the adult cat,” Nines explained. “My programming might be too advanced.”

“My outdated programming still seems to be too advanced,” Connor said sourly. “I can’t get anything but static.”

“We’ll try a human way, then,” Hank said. He carefully pushed Connor to the side by his shoulders and crouched down in front of the box in his stead. “Blink once if you can understand me?”

Gavin couldn’t see what the cat did, since Hank’s broad form covered the box’s windows, but it must have worked.

Hank turned to Nines, nodding. “You were right – the most outdated programming worked just fine.” He tipped his finger to his temple. 

“It could have been a coincidence,” Gavin interjected. “Try some more.”

“Blink once for yes, twice for no,” Hank told the cat. “Do you think Detective Reed is a mouthy brat?”

He turned back to Gavin, pausing for suspense.

“She’s a very polite lady,” he said.

Connor intervened before Gavin could explode on Hank. 

“Detective Reed is right. Blinking is a normal thing for cats. We have to conduct thorough experiments to ascertain how intelligent the cats are.”

Hank groaned getting back up on his feet, stretching his back. “So we get to play around with some kittens. Not the kind of workday I imagined when I started this career. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve seen enough dead bodies the last few weeks.”

There was one thing Gavin and Hank could agree on, at least. 

“The interrogation chamber isn’t being used at the moment,” Nines said. “The cats shouldn’t be able to gather data in there, if they are spies.”

“Right,” said Gavin. “We can even start at the basics. Mirror test.”

Connor just looked down at the cats with a fond little smile.

“I think this is my favorite case so far.”

\---

When Hank entered his kitchen in the evening, he found Connor sitting on the floor, looking distressed.

“Sumo hates me!” Connor exclaimed when he noticed Hank. “First he barked at me and now he refuses to even look at me.”

Hank took a sip from his beer, wondering if he should be silently amused or take pity. Even if Connor’s programming, according to the RK900, was outdated – surely it was advanced enough to know about the bad blood between cats and dogs.

“It’s ‘cause you smell of cat,” he said. “Wash your hands and change your clothes and he’ll love you again.”

Connor looked up at him with big eyes. “I haven’t bought any clothes yet. Can I borrow some of yours?”

“Mi casa es su casa,“ Hank said, gesturing toward his room. 

Connor blinked for a moment before he stood up and walked out of the kitchen, mumbling, “Muchas gracias.”

He stayed away for a while. Hank finished his beer. Just when he opted for a second one, he heard Connor’s voice shout from the bedroom, “No tienes pantalones que me quedan!”

“The fuck?” Hank yelled back. 

“Dije que no-“

“English, Connor!”

A pause, then came Connor’s voice again, sounding indignant. “You started it!”

“It was just a phrase, Connor!”

“Well why is it in Spanish?”

Hank wiped a laughing tear from his cheek. “How should I know? I didn’t invent it.” The laughter died in his throat when Connor appeared in the doorframe, wearing nothing but Hank’s streaky shirt.

“I think you are using too many outdated phrases, Hank. I know that RK900 suggested differently today, but I’m not actually an outdated model, quite the opposite. You must know that he has a very special sense of humor, now that we work closely with him-“

Hank didn’t really hear the rest. He completely forgot about a second beer. Yvonne’s voice overpowered everything else as he stared at Connor standing in his kitchen with nothing but a too-big shirt on him, which disguised an area that Hank suddenly became very curious about. 

Would Connor even wear underwear?

Hank pressed his eyes closed, cursing his therapist with every fiber of his being. 

He was lucky that no answer was expected of him. Connor was cut off in the middle of his sermon by Sumo jumping up on him, no longer appalled by the smell of cat. 

It took more willpower than Hank knew he had, but he managed to turn away. Just in case the shirt… shifted.

“You’re still full of energy!” Connor laughed as he wrestled with the dog. “Do you want to go on a walk?”

Sumo barked at the word, running a lap around the table. 

“That’s a yes!”

Hank chanced a glance at where Connor sat on the floor again, thankfully decent enough for Hank to not immediately black out. It was a close call, though. With his hair askew, one too many shirt buttons open and legs carelessly parted, he looked like…

“Will you come with us?” Connor asked.

“No,” said Hank, already regretting what came out of his mouth next.

“I still have some homework to do.”

\---

Connor had ended up in his usual pair of pants, but Sumo didn’t seem to care anymore. He was running around the park, chasing snowflakes. His thick fur was made for this kind of weather and Connor had shut off his temperature sensitivity, so they weren’t as unprepared for the icy wind as the figure approaching them at the dog park. 

Gavin was wrapped in multiple layers, but he still looked frozen and annoyed. A black German Shepherd followed at his heels. Once the dog saw Sumo, he abandoned his good behavior and ran to greet the Saint Bernhard and assist him in devouring the snow. 

“I could have done with a quick lap around the house,” Gavin groaned as he tossed a bag at Connor. “Here’s what you asked for. Keep them. Won’t ask what you need them for.”

“Thank you. I also need your help as a human behavior coach,” Connor said. “Hank is behaving… strangely.”

“No shit,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes. “Old fart’s an alcoholic. Been behaving strangely for the last two years.”

“I mean the change in his behavior since yesterday morning,” Connor clarified. “He suddenly seems more reserved. I don’t know what could have prompted it. Could I repeat everything I said around the time of the change so that you could analyze-“

“Spare me!” Gavin groaned. “Just give me an example of the strange behavior.”

“Well, just before, he saw me and suddenly stopped laughing about something. I said something to him, and he just stared at me with an open mouth. Didn’t even disagree with what I said.”

“Hank not disagreeing with something is very strange, you’re right,” Gavin said.

“I said he was using too many outdated phrases and he didn’t react.”

Gavin barked a laugh to which his German Shepherd answered in kind. “You basically said he’s old and he didn’t bite back? Alright, you got me. Give me the details.”

Connor tried to convey the events as accurately as he could, even imitating Hank’s voice and Sumo’s bark. Gavin’s eyebrows rose the more Connor told him, so he must have an idea what was wrong with Hank.

“Okay,” Gavin said, once Connor had finished. “So, you were there. Dressed in Hank’s shirt. And nothing else. And that’s when he started being weird.”

“That would be correct,” Connor said. 

Gavin made the prayer-hands in front of his mouth again, which Connor wondered about. Then he remembered that humans blew into their hands when they were cold.

“You’re cold,” Connor shared his observation. “I can help you with that, if you want.”

“How?” Gavin asked, looking suspicious. 

It was easier to demonstrate, so Connor turned up the temperature of his hands and cupped Gavin’s ears, which he had foolishly left unprotected. 

“Your ears are the first body part to get cold. You should wear a hat when you go outside in this weather. Especially with this wind,” Connor explained. Gavin still looked like he had bitten on something sour. “Oh!” Connor realized his mistake. “I’m not supposed to tell humans what would be best for their health.”

“I’m not gonna lie, it feels good,” Gavin said. “But Jesus fuck, this is the most uncomfortable distance we’ve ever been in.”

“We’ve been much closer than this, Detective,” Connor reminded him.

“Not our faces.”

“Actually, when you leaned in to stab me with your finger and tell me to stay out of your way seven weeks ago, our faces were only 4 inches apart. Right now, we’re-“

“Fuck off, Connor! I feel like we’re about to fucking kiss! You’re holding my damn head!”

Connor let his hands sink down. He remembered the conversation he’d had with Hank yesterday. About how some humans showed affection through insults and how that meant Gavin actually liked him a bit more than Connor thought appropriate.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said. “I didn’t mean to suggest…”

“Oh fuck you! Stop putting these fucking pictures in my head, I’m going to puke again!” Gavin closed his eyes and shook his head as if he wanted to shake the pictures out. “God!” he groaned as his cheeks suddenly blushed from warmth instead of the cold. “Oh my God!”

“You keep staring at my crotch, Detective.” Connor felt it was best to address the elephant in the room.

“I just realized…” Gavin made a disgusted face. “What the fuck… how do… how do androids look down there?”

“Very differently, just like you humans,” Connor offered.

“So you have a…”

“Oh, no. Not all androids have genitalia. Some do, of course, but only if it was necessary for their original functions.”

Gavin made a step back, but he kept staring at Connor’s crotch, which was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“So…” he waved a hand. “For you… and Nines… that was…”

“My research would suggest that it is impolite to question other people’s genitalia,” Connor said, turning a bit so that Gavin wouldn’t have a full-frontal view anymore.

Gavin’s eyes finally shot up, face beet-red. 

“Shit, okay, I don’t even wanna know! I’m just asking, because… because of Hank.”

That had Connor relax again.

“Because of Hank?” he asked. “Why is that important?”

“Well, you said he was weird ever since you showed yourself before him. Pantless.”

Connor gave a thoughtful nod. Gavin was right. It had been the first time for Hank to see him like that. 

“So…” Gavin said. “If he saw you looking all Ken-doll down there. I guess he would be weirded out. Right?”

Connor processed the suggestion. Humans would find the sight of no genitalia off-putting, he could understand as much. Even if it should be logical that androids didn’t need them, Hank probably never thought about what Connor looked like naked, and now that he knew, he would view Connor like something un-human again. Like a doll. Like plastic.

“Elijah Kamski’s new company is supposed to enhance androids with all sorts of updates, for a price,” Connor thought out loud. “Most updates are still under investigation before they can be released, but I heard he has installed genitalia in a number of androids already. It’s not a process that could do any harm and it’s nothing that had to be newly invented. So I could go get a penis any time.”

“Yeah,” said Gavin, taking another step away. His dog, thinking they were about to leave, came back to sit at his heels and Sumo followed suit. They were all powered out. “You should definitely go get one. For Hank.”

“Okay!” Connor smiled. That was an easy solution. One that didn’t require him to learn anything about humans that he found difficult to understand. “Thank you, Gavin! Despite your lack of training, you’re a born human behavior coach.”

Connor bent down and offered his hand to Gavin’s dog to smell. The German Shepherd accepted the greeting with a wagging tail and barked excitedly when Connor rubbed his head between his still-warm hands. 

“And you know what?” Gavin added, a grin spreading on his face when Connor looked up at him expectantly. “I have an amazing idea. You… should ask Hank to help you choose one.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, definitely! But don’t tell him about it beforehand. You know how humans are – they can’t talk about that stuff at all. He’ll be too prudish to agree. He’ll act like it’s weird and he’ll be uncomfortable, but the truth is, he cares. It’s important to him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have started to act strange when he saw your penis-less state, right?”

It only took a second of processing for Connor to blink in understanding. 

“Right!” he said. “That _is_ an amazing idea.”


	5. The jeans are too tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I was writing a long-ish Convin OS - if you're interested in the ship, I'd be super happy if you checked it out^^ Anyway, here's a new chapter. Hopefully I'll have more time to write soon.

Hank had fallen asleep. Stressing over how inappropriate it would be to follow through with Yvonne’s ‘homework’ had made him exhausted and his brain must have decided that it was easier to just knock him out for good. It was pitch-dark, but it was winter in Detroit, so that didn’t count for much. He turned in his bed, fighting the covers until he was able to glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

4 o’clock in the morning. Wonderful. Hank already knew he wouldn’t fall back asleep, especially since he went to bed so early. There wasn’t much to do, and Connor would be glad to have company during the long night hours, so Hank kicked the covers off and swung his legs out of the bed. 

It was a bit chilly, so he grabbed a blanket to wrap himself into. There was a faint light coming from the kitchen. Hank wondered what Connor was up to. Connor refused to go into stasis, since he wanted to enjoy every minute of his free life – but there wasn’t much to do during the night and Hank always felt bad when Connor ended up cleaning the whole house. 

When Hank turned the corner, it took him a few seconds to comprehend what was happening. Connor was nowhere to be seen – instead, there was a stranger standing in his kitchen. One that was obviously on drugs, if the psychedelic shirt and the sunglasses indoors were anything to go by. Cop instincts kicking in, Hank grabbed the nearest weapon off a shelf – it just so happened to be an overwatered cactus – and darted at the intruder with a roar. 

“Hank!” the intruder shouted with a familiar voice, side-stepping the weak attack and watching the rubbery cactus fall to the floor with a wet _splat_. Looking back up at Hank, he said, “It’s me, Connor!”

“Yeah, I got that,” Hank said, frowning. He put the now empty flowerpot onto the table and scrutinized Connor from head to toes. It was a sight to behold. The sunglasses were generic and cheap – he probably picked them up from a gas station when he walked Sumo earlier. The psychedelic shirt, it turned out, was one of Hank’s own. A Hawaiian shirt from a holiday some twenty years prior, hidden in the far back of his closet and forgotten about until Connor came rummaging through. Even Hank had just bought it for the irony and that was to say something. He had no idea where the jeans came from. They were too tight and too short, leaving ankles and some of Connor’s calf exposed. 

He looked like a complete hipster, the only thing missing being a handlebar mustache. 

“This is what you get up to at night?” Hank finally asked. 

“Not usually,” Connor said. “Why did you attack me with a cactus?”

“I thought some red ice addict had broken in. Why the sunglasses?”

“They cover my inferior eye-color. Do I look like I’m a drug addict?”

“No, you… you look good. I’m just half-asleep. Where did you get the pants?”

“Gavin agreed to give me some old jeans of his-“

“GAVIN?” Hank interrupted their question-and-answer game with a high-pitched shout. “Why the fuck are you asking Reed for clothes?”

“I just…”

“Oh my God!” Hank groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is all my fault,” he realized. “Because I said I wouldn’t go shopping with you.”

“No, actually I-“

“Don’t let me get away with being an asshole all the time, Connor!” 

“Okay,” Connor said calmly. “Then would you stop interrupting me for a second?”

Hank felt like biting his own tongue off. He kept acting like a bumbling idiot around Connor – ever since Yvonne had implied that there might be romantic feelings, he didn’t know how to be smooth anymore. Or just normal. 

“Thank you,” Connor said when Hank didn’t open his mouth again. “As I was trying to say, I was just overcome with the desire to play dress-up tonight, but since all the stores were already closed and your pants are way too big for me, I asked Gavin to meet me at the dog park.”

Hank waited an extra second, just to be sure.

“The jeans are too tight,” he said. 

Connor looked down on himself as if he hadn’t noticed it yet. “Actually, I happen to like them. They fit just fine and it doesn’t matter to me whether they cut into my belly. I don’t feel it anyway.”

What could Hank even say to that? _Sure thing, Connor – just do me a favor and never turn around, because my old mistreated heart will explode as soon as I see your ass in these things._

“I’ll go shopping with you. As soon as work allows it, we go to the mall, I promise.”

Connor’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You mean it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“That’s great!” Connor said and for a moment Hank thought he caught an impish smile on his lips, but it was gone with the blink of an eye. “I didn’t think you’d be so easily swayed. I planned on spending the rest of the night coming up with an excuse to make you accompany me to the shop.”

Hank shrugged, extra smooth. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the only Hawaiian shirt in my collection. I might have a box in the basement somewhere. In case you want to continue with the dress-up games.”

“It’s like you can read my mind,” Connor said. “How do you humans say? Let’s party it up in here!”

“Let’s get this party started,” Hank sighed. 

Connor nodded enthusiastically.

“Que empiece la fiesta!”

\---

“So the FBI stole your cats.”

“What?” Gavin screeched, fighting his way from the back of the group to the front of Fowler’s desk by tackling Connor like a linebacker. “They can’t just do that! I discovered them in the first place, so I get to-“

A hand at Gavin’s back made him pause. Nines was pushing his buttons as if Gavin were the damn machine between them. Still, it was for the better, because it gave Fowler a moment to answer without raising his voice above Gavin’s. After all, there were senior citizens in the room and Gavin didn’t want to be responsible for anymore hearing loss.

“I already warned you they could do that,” Fowler said. “They came as soon as you were gone. Cats weren’t happy about it, but I was just informed that they were x-rayed and tested and there was no danger of them being spying devices. Some crazy Frankenstein out there is installing android components into living animals, which is still a big deal, but no FBI-big deal. So you’ll keep working the case.”

“Where are the cats now?” Hank asked.

“On their way. Meanwhile they sent some technobabble for you to go over. What kind of components they found inside the cats and that shit. I’ll forward it to all of you. Now get out of my office.”

Fowler was already staring into his computer screen as the group awkwardly shuffled out of the room. Nines and Connor exchanged a glance as soon as they were outside. Hank noticed it, too.

“What does the e-mail say?” he asked.

“It confirms what we discovered through experimentation yesterday,” Nines said. “The cats’ memories can’t hold more information than the past few days. They are aware, but not overly intelligent. It’s basically just the soul-component that was installed into the cats.”

“There’s a soul-component?” Gavin gaped. “Damn! Did they forget to install it in you?”

“I had it surgically removed once I found out I was to be your partner,” Nines said sweetly. “I keep it in a safe at home, where you can’t crush it.”

“Smart move,” said Hank. Gavin sent him a death-glare for butting into his and Nines’ conversation, but Hank was unmoved. “Wish I could do that.”

“Nines was just joking,” Connor explained dutifully. “I don’t think we would be able to think for ourselves if it weren’t for that component.”

“You mean to tell me there is a whole-ass component that can turn you deviant and this is the first time I hear about it?” Hank said.

“It’s not that simple,” said Connor. “We need it to imitate human behavior, otherwise it would just be-“

“Zombie army,” Gavin nodded. 

“Androids without the component were tested, but no one would buy them. They were labeled as creepy, uncanny and possessed,” Connor continued. “Anyway, the component wasn’t specifically designed to let us make our own decisions. But it is where the escape-route installed by Kamski is located.”

“Ah, I see.” Hank seemed to understand what Connor was talking about, but no one thought about letting Gavin in on the secret. They all just stood there, looking away in different directions.

“Whatever,” Gavin bit out, stomping away toward the break room. “I need coffee.”

To his surprise, it was Hank who followed, if only to ask annoying questions.

“So I heard you and Connor met at the dog park yesterday?”

Gavin shrugged his shoulders, facing the coffee machine. He wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. 

“Brought him some old jeans of yours? What was all that about?” Hank continued.

“He fucking asked,” Gavin grumbled. The last drop of his coffee had just artfully exploded into the paper cup. Coffee this morning was long overdue. Turning around, he almost walked into Hank, who had planted himself right behind Gavin, way too close for comfort. “The fuck!”

Hank’s voice was low and dangerous.

“I don’t trust you being nice to him, so I feel I have to remind you. If you fuck with him, you fuck with me.”

“Is that so?” Gavin drawled, looking up at Hank with a carefully unperturbed face. “Damn, Anderson, I almost forgot the time you put a fucking gun against my head for the guy.”

That made Hank take a step out of Gavin’s space. It was easy to rile him up ever since he started to take the secret therapy sessions everyone already knew about.

“You held a gun to Connor’s head first.”

“Right. But at that point we both considered him nothing more than a machine. So basically, you threatened to shoot your human subordinate for trying to stop an aggressive Roomba from intervening with our work.”

Gavin took a long sip from his coffee and watched Hank practically sink into the floor before him. It couldn’t feel nice to be confronted with your constantly inebriated and aggressive past self, but Gavin wasn’t about to go easy on him. Everyone else already did.

Hank finally broke eye-contact, clearing his throat. “Alright. You know what? You’re right. I crossed a line there. And I never apologized for it, did I?”

“You were lucky it turned out that androids were actual living beings, otherwise I might not have forgiven you. Ever.”

If possible, Hank looked even more miserable.

“Yeah. Actually, you shouldn’t. None of you should – I put a gun against Connor’s head, too. I have a fucking problem.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, cry about it at home, I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Everyone thinks I’m the asshole between the two of us and that suits me just fine. No one can know I’m secretly soft and sensitive.”

It took a botched wink until Hank was ready to give a gruff little laugh. “Right,” he said. “Soft and sensitive. I’ve known you for years, Reed – you are an asshole. Just not as-“

“-spent and loose and full of shit as you,” Gavin said. “True. I’m still tight and fuckable.”

“Jesus. You’re grosser than Connor’s blood-licking habit.”

“And proud of it.”

“Don’t be.”

They both hovered in the break room for another second, unsure if it was fine to leave the conversation as it was. In the end, Hank shuffled past Gavin to make himself a cup of coffee. Only when their backs were turned toward each other and Gavin was almost out the door, did Hank add a, “Thank you.”

“Whatever that’s for, I already know I don’t deserve it,” Gavin said.

Hank’s voice was subdued. “For never reporting me.”

“Oh!” Gavin barked a laugh. “Believe me, Anderson. I did. Multiple times.”

He left Hank in the break room with the implications hanging heavy in the air. 

At least he found he could actually believe that Hank never knew about it.

\---

Connor and Nines had been waiting at Nines’ desk for the cats to arrive, going over the list of components built into the animals. 

“I’m surprised they are alive,” Nines’ voice commented inside Connor’s head. “There isn’t a drop of thirium inside them.”

“You think this is the first step towards cyborgs?” Connor asked aloud. 

“I think we’re dealing with an experiment in that direction, yes. Why are we speaking the human way?”

“We should get used to it,” Connor said. “The humans don’t like it when they can’t hear us converse.”

Nines’ face went blank as he switched back to telecommunication. “Why are you so concerned with adapting to human behavior? We are androids and there are no humans present. We can speak however we like.”

“I don’t want to creep them out,” Connor said, still out loud.

“Humans can speak in other languages, too,” Nines argued. “And it doesn’t ‘creep others out’.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Connor said, remembering the Spanish-incident with Hank. 

“They often converse via text and no one can hear that.”

“Only when they are too far away to hear each other,” Connor objected. “Besides, it’s considered impolite! Have you ever heard of the term ‘Smombie’?”

Nines’ LED turned yellow for a second. “A smartphone zombie?” he asked skeptically. 

“I don’t want to be a Smombie, Nines!”

“Well damn!” Gavin had returned with a cup of coffee and two raised eyebrows. “Who the hell turned your time settings back to the two-tens?”

Nines turned towards Gavin and, keeping a straight face, asked, “Apa salah karo Hank?”

“Stop messing around with your settings! This isn’t funny!”

“Apa iki keganggu sampeyan?”

Gavin looked to Connor for help. 

“I apologize for my younger brother’s childish antics,” Connor sighed. “He’s speaking Javanese.”

“O… kay?” Gavin pulled his phone from his pant pockets and tapped on it for a minute. Finally, he held the phone toward Nines like a cracker to eat. “Again, in here!”

Nines willingly spoke into the device. “Apa iki keganggu sampeyan?”

Gavin glanced at the screen. “Does this bother you?” he read from his translation app. “Ha! It worked. Your pronunciation is impeccable.”

“See?” Nines said, sounding almost proud. “He didn’t complain about it being impolite and he adapted and overcame.”

“That’s because Gavin is allergic to politeness,” Connor retorted. “ _And_ he’s a complete Smombie.”

Gavin just proved his point by ignoring Connor and waving his phone about Nines’ face, eager like a little boy to continue playing. “Now the first one!”

“Apa salah karo Hank?” Nines repeated dutifully. 

“What is wrong with… Hank?” Gavin read from his phone screen. “What is wrong with Hank? Why, what _is_ wrong with Hank?”

“He just stomped by our desk and directly into Captain Fowler’s office, with a head about to explode,” Nines said.

That was when the yelling started. 

“Ooooh!” Gavin said as Connor was already whirling around and running towards the office. “Right. That one might be on me, guys.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated, thank you <3 Also, you can always come and say Hi on [Tumblr](https://topftopf.tumblr.com/)


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